


An Audience of Souls

by Snowmane



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Pre-Game(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 19:46:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1110803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowmane/pseuds/Snowmane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four chapters of differing lenght exploring the relationship between Tamlen and a young hunter named Mahariel. Following the seasons it begins in their early childhood and ends with Tamlen's death as a ghoul/shriek at the camp of the freshly recruited Grey Warden and her companions.</p><p>Title taken from the amazing song "Audience of Souls" by Emily Smith from her 2008 album "Too long away".<br/>(The connection might only make sense after the last chapter.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Autumn's Play

**Author's Note:**

> My first story posted here was about the end of my Grey Warden, this one takes you to the very beginnings:  
> If you are playing a female Dalish in the Warden Origin quests there is a dialogue option that suggests the Warden-to-be and Tamlen have been more than just good friends. While trying to flesh out my PC, a female Dalish rogue, I sketched out several short drabbles from her childhood and early days as a hunter. Rewritten, shortened and put in chronological order I hope they are somewhat enjoyable and will also work as a base for her further character development during the Blight.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story starts in autumn with two little troublemakers.

Cold and miserable as they were the way back to camp seemed endless. Her chin ached, her knees were scraped and being soaked with cold water didn’t help at all. It was only the beginning of autumn, the leaves turning into bright colours, but it certainly was starting to be chilly in the evenings. They did not speak a word while they trotted along between giant oaks and ancient ironwood trees. There wasn’t much to be said, anyways.  
When they finally reached the Sabrae clan, it was worse than she’d imagined. She had half-expected Ashalle to wait for her at the edge of the camp, arms folded in front of her chest and a frown on her face. What she certainly had not thought of was that her foster mother was accompanied not only by Tamlen’s parents but also by Keeper Marethari herself. The four adults narrowed their eyes as the children stepped closer and for a heartbeat she had to fight the sudden urge to run back into the forest.  
“Good evening you two”, the Keeper greeted them, her voice calm but her face expressing disapproval. “I think there is something you want to tell us, am I right?”  
The two children looked at each other. “Uhm…”  
“Let’s start with why you both look as if you tumbled down a tree and right into a thornbush.” Tamlen’s mother suggested. “That tunic was new, Tamlen!”  
“I’m sorry, _mamae_.” He bit his lower lip, glancing sideways at Mahariel. “But actually, that is what happened...”  
“We didn’t climb a tree, though. Just a stone”, the girl quickly picked up his lie.  
“Yes, yes we did!” Tamlen looked way too relived. Not that their parents were buying it. At least from how Ashalle kept shaking her head.  
“It was a really slippery stone. The big one right at the stream -”  
“This is also why you both are completely soaked?” her foster-mother interrupted.  
“Ahm… yes?” they answered in unison.  
“You two have been fighting again, have you?”  
“Yes.”  
“No.”  
“Just a bit”  
“He pulled my hair.”  
“Mahariel bit me.”  
“Only because you kicked me.”  
“She shoved me into the stream!”  
Their rambling was stopped by the Keeper’s staff coming down hardly on both of their heads. Mahariel ducked and covered the sore spot with her hands. _Ouch, ouch, ouch, that hurt!_ And Marethari certainly looked not any less angry than before. “Merrill came running here an hour ago – crying! – telling everybody you two went ‘adventuring’ and got eaten by a bear.”  
“Oh, she really believed that? I’m sorry, it was a joke.” Tamlen couldn’t hide a smile even though his head surely was hurting as bad as her own.  
“Tamlen! Creators, what did I do wrong while raising you, boy?” His mother grabbed him at his collar and gave him a good shake. “I sincerely apologize, Keeper. Be sure he won’t be causing trouble anytime soon. Or scare poor Merrill.”  
“Neither of them will.” Mahariel was just about to say something stupid when she felt Ashalle’s fingers close tightly around her upper arm.  
“No, we won’t”, the girl hurried to say.  
“We are really sorry, Keeper.”  
“Yes, yes we are!”  
“We won’t fight again.”  
“Or scare Merrill.”  
Even as they made their most innocent faces, somehow everybody present knew they weren’t.


	2. Winter's Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which autumn makes way for winter and two children have grown up quickly.

A thin layer of snow lay on the frozen ground as they snuck through the silent forest. There wasn’t much snow in this part of Ferelden, but the winter air bit into every inch of bare skin like hundreds of little needles. They stopped for a second, listening and watching for any sign of life. The two hunters weren’t afraid of any of the forests inhabitants, most of them hiding from the winter in their nests and burrows. They also did not flinch as a branch broke under their prey’s clumsy feet in the distance and hushed voices disrupted the icy silence.  
Tamlen’s lips curled back into something that was more a snarl than a smile. “Got them”, he whispered, his eyes still scanning the way they just came down.  
Mahariel allowed herself just to watch him for a moment, then she slowly pulled one arrow from her quiver and pointed her bow towards the source of sound. “I think none of the other hunters has followed us, _lethallin_. Let’s take the _shem_ down quickly and be back on our regular patrol. I’m starting to miss meals that are not made from nuts and dried meat.”  
Her clan mate readied his weapons as well, now wearing a true smile on his face. She wasn’t used to see him with his _vallaslin_ yet and as quickly as his smile faded the pain of the ritual still lingered. He mustered a reassuring nod. “They won’t stand a chance. And then I will be most pleased to help you sustain your reputation as everyone’s favourite hunter and get a whole deer for the clan. Or at least some fat rabbits.”  
“I don’t think there are fat rabbits this year. More the skin-and-bones type”, she joked, trying to hide her nervousness.  
He nudged her gently with his elbow, his expression suddenly serious. “ _Ma serannas_. I couldn’t do this without you.”  
“Thank me again when the elders caught us.”

It had started nearly a year ago with a group of hunters being severely injured by some _shemlen_ woodcutters who obviously thought that they could steal the kill from them. When the two young adults found the intruders sleeping by the fireside without anyone standing guard during hunting a few days later Tamlen hadn’t hesitated a second and Mahariel was more or less forced into action as well. They reported back to camp afterwards and the grim appreciation of their fellow clan mates was worth the reprimand of their Keeper. Marethari forbade them to even go near any _shemlen_ or flat ears, but this rule was quickly broken. If any of the other hunters knew about their unusual prey, they kept quiet about it. And that was all the support they needed.  
She nocked the arrow and lowered herself a bit into her usual hunting stance as he let his sword swing in a quick circle to warm his cold fingers. A few knowing glances later they split up, circling the intruders in a well-trained manoeuvre. Less than half an hour later the snow started to fall, hiding their traces and the forest was as silent and cold as before.

When they returned to camp, they had managed to shoot a pheasant and Tamlen’s snares had held another two rabbits. Together with the others hunter’s kill this was enough to fill everyone’s empty stomach and even have something left over for the next days. Keeping close to the fire and holding mugs of steaming hot tea they talked and laughed with the others until late in the night. Not even the Keeper asked about the dark red stains on their clothes.


	3. Spring's Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which winter turns into spring and good friends into lovers.

“Maybe I should take it off then –“  
“Don’t. It looks cute on you.”  
“But Fenarel said – “  
She interrupted her friend mid-sentence again. “Don’t listen to him, Merrill. It’s not your fault that he doesn’t appreciate such a lovely gift.” Mahariel padded the younger girl’s shoulder. She was wearing a wreath of small white flowers on her head and another bracelet made of the same plant around her left wrist. Even though the nights were still cold, spring was finally coming back and the rain had not only melted away the last snow but also awakened the first flowers from their sleep. They had found a clearing full of them today while herding some Halla for Maren. And as Mahariel stood watch Merrill had picked an arm full of the tiny white things and made wristbands and wreaths for everyone in their small group of friends. Fenarel obviously had felt violated in his newly-found manly pride, but Ineria had accepted it with a wide smile and Mahariel, too, was now wearing some flowers braided into her long dark hair. After all, spring was coming and this meant an end from freezing and going to bed with an empty stomach – why not celebrate it?  
Merrill gave her a wide smile and hugged her tightly. “Thank you. Maybe if Tamlen wears his, he will do so, too?”  
“I’m sure. I’ll convince him to do it and then Fenarel will have no other choice than to tag along. Just wait and see.” She tried to smile back but her face must have darkened because Merrill gave her a sympathetic look.  
“You are still angry that he went hunting alone, are you _lethallan_?”  
“I’m not angry. Well, not a lot. And he didn’t go alone; he took his father with him. Maybe it’s not even his planning but some… I don’t know. Family thing.” At least she wanted to believe it. Being left behind didn’t fit with her at all, not after she spent the last four years hunting at her friend’s side. But at least with one of his parents present he wouldn’t do something exceptionally stupid. Hopefully.  
They were gone since two days now, the other hunters working in their usual sets. So she had to stay at camp where everybody was obviously having a good time throwing work at her. During the last 48 hours she had helped Ashalle with her spring-cleaning, Master Ilen to fix a broken wheel on an _aravel_ , then copied at least ten pages from some old dusty books for Marethari, annoyed Hahren Paivel with endless questions about lore and certain elvhen words she didn’t understand, herded Halla together with Merrill – in short, she was just as exhausted as angry right now.  
Her mood lightened a bit when the other hunters returned – Tamlen and his father still were nowhere to be found – and the whole clan gathered around the fire to eat and talk. A mug of herbal tea in one hand and a bowl of stew in the other she was sitting between Merrill and Ineria who both tried their best to cheer her up. Even Hahren Paivel seemed to be in a good mood today as he started to tell his stories and recited old poems. Maybe it was the spring, she mused. Two of the younger children started firing question after question at the old elf and he answered them all as calm and wise as only he could. After a while the group of young adults disengaged from the general discussion, chatting in a low voice, laughing about Fenarel’s clumsiness as he managed to spill hot tea on his bare feet and shooting jests at each other that made Merrills cheeks turn pink.  
She was so lost in their funny little banter that she only realised Tamlen standing behind her as he put his hands down on her shoulders. Mahariel jumped and nearly cried out in shock. It only took her a split second to recognize the calloused fingers through the fabric of her tunic and the low sound of suppressed laughter behind her, though.  
She considered giving him a good nudge for that, but then decided otherwise. Instead she didn’t turn at all but straightened her back and let out a loud huff.  
“I hope you have a really good explanation for leaving me here like that, Tam” she snapped, suddenly angry again.  
“Was it so bad?” He actually sounded sorry. Maybe it really had been his father’s idea. She instantly felt bad for having a go at him, but determined that she could leave him hanging for a few more moments.  
“I had to help _mamae_ with her spring cleaning. The whole _aravel_ , Tamlen, the whole thing! And let’s not start with the extraordinary interesting work I had to do for the Keeper and Maren today. So yes, it was quite bad.” She turned and tried to give him a stern look but couldn’t help but smile as she caught his glance. “Next time at least give me a warning so I can prepare some excuses why I cannot spend my day scrubbing the floor of an _aravel_.”  
“I’ll make sure of that. But that would have ruined the surprise.”  
“Surprise? What kind of surprise?”  
“Turn around and close your eyes.”  
“What?!”  
“C’mon, just do it” he urged, giving her shoulders a light squeeze.  
“I swear to Fen’Harel if you are about to put a nettle in my pants again, you are a dead man, Tamlen.”  
This comment made him chuckle and she turned around, reluctantly closing her eyes. Only then she realized how quiet it had become around the fire. Even Hahren Paivel had stopped talking. She could just imagine the eyes of the whole clan on herself right now. Had she said the part with the nettle too loud? It had been years ago, but it surely still could get them both a nice scolding from the elders. Mahariel felt her checks flush and so she just squeezed her eyes shut even more. At least the general attention would ensure that Tamlen wouldn’t try to put some nettles into her clothing. Or some madcap bulbs, or a slug, or –  
Something heavy dropped down on her shoulders. She could feel Tamlens cold fingers on her neck as he brushed her hair aside and then he fumbled with something near her collarbone. Mahariel held her breath and sat still, every muscle tensed and her bare toes digging into the earth in front of her. The pressure of his hand on her shoulders ended only for something smooth to close around her neck. It seemed to be leather, not any leather but suede as soft and supple as sin. She swallowed heavily. “Tamlen, what is going on?”  
“Stand up and open your eyes, _lethallan _.” He whispered into her ear, sounding as nervous as she felt right now. Utterly confused she simply obeyed, even though her knees felt a bit weak. As she dared to open her eyes Merrill cooed a “So pretty!” beside her and only then she realized what the heavy thing was: It was a thick cloak made of wolf fur. She raised her hands to touch it. There were feathers, too, and a clasp made of Halla horn and even if she couldn’t see it the thing around her neck she guessed it was something like a choker made of leather. She turned towards Tamlen, her expression completely puzzled just to find him staring right back at her. He never had looked this anxious before.  
“Keeper Marethari,” he started, breaking eye-contact with her and looking towards the opposite side of the fire. She followed his gaze and twitched as she found the whole clan looking at them. Suddenly she had the urge to grab Tamlen by his shoulders, give him a good shake and yell something at him for not telling her what _by the ancestors_ was going on. Merril’s hysterical giggling did not help at all.  
“Keeper Marethari, Hahren Paivel, Maren, Ashalle, mother, father. As tradition dictates I hereby offer my first gift and humbly ask you and the whole clan…”  
She forgot how to breathe as her brain finally decided to work again. These words were something she had heard before. Last year when Inerias cousin had asked for – Fen’Harel take her, she suddenly understood what this coat meant. And the choker. And why he went hunting alone with his father.  
“… for your permission and your blessings to court my fellow hunter and sister not in blood but in spirit, Mahariel, foster-daughter of Ashalle.”  
That was it. He said it. Her lungs still refused to work but she at least found the courtesy of closing her mouth. For a few moments the camp was silent and she could feel Tamlen tense behind her. Then the Keeper broke the silence by starting to ask the other important members of the clan for their consent. She knew no-one would object. They never did, but the words were old, as old as the forest itself and they needed to be spoken to follow the tradition. Her dazzled mind couldn’t follow the conversation and as she stepped back to sit down she nearly fell over the log she’d sat on before. Tamlen caught her, his arms curling around her upper body and he drew her as close as he was allowed to. She still couldn’t muster the courage to turn and look into his eyes but leaned into the embrace instead and watched the others speak. Merrill and Ineria were talking, too, most likely with her or with Tamlen but neither of them listened to them. He held her tight, she entwined her fingers with his and they just stood there and watched for what seemed like hours.  
“You look beautiful with the flowers” he whispered in her ear at last, unsure what to say but needing to say just something.  
“ _Ma'arlath_ “, she whispered back, finally finding her words. “ _Ma’arlath_ , Tamlen.” And then she entangled herself from his grasp and turned around because her heart felt like it would burst otherwise. For a second they just looked at each other, smiles slowly broadening and then she all but threw herself into his arms and they kissed and Merrill squealed and Paivel was shouting their names because this was something they _certainly should not be doing___. But they didn’t care because right now they were the happiest two people in whole Thedas and this was the only thing that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is quite a lot of my own headcanon. Bioware is not giving us too much information about relationships and marriage in the world of the Dalish. Heck, I do not even know _if_ they marry at all. There is something about proofing yourself you'll find out when you help the couple in Zathrian's clan and from what else we know they are really traditional people. So most of this is just my interpretation and imagination. I'm sure a lot of people will disagree, but this is just my little version. I'm happy to discuss and improve it.


	4. Summer's Wake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their story ends in a summer's night and another one begins.

“Don’t look at me… I am… sick.”  
She can only stare at the small figure in front of her. His skin, pale as hers from a life in the shadows of the trees, has darkened, his hair is gone, his voice brittle and raspy – but it is Tamlen. Her Tamlen.  
She struggles for words as he speaks to her in short, hacked sentences. She can feel the Taint within him, just as she senses dark spawn, but there must be hope, a chance for healing. The Joining saved her life, we shouldn’t it safe his as well? If Duncan…  
Duncan told her he died from the Taint. That there was no way to survive it this long if it goes untreated. But there is Tamlen right in front of her, and even if he is sick, he is still himself and it had been months since the cave. The realisation hurts as much as Tamlen’s words: Duncan lied to her. She still could have saved him, spared him from all this agony…  
The Warden steps forward, her hands grasping his. “Forgive me, _ma sa'lath_. I am not worthy of your trust anymore, but please let me help you. There must be a way. There must…”  
He yanks his hands free, drawing aside. “To far… you cannot help me.”  
“But…” Her words are stopped by the look in his eyes. There is so much pain in them, so little left of the man she once knew.  
“Stop me, _lethallan_.” There is a finality within these three words that makes her heart stop. For the blink of an eye the world seems to stop as he lifts his hands as if to embrace her. Instead he attacks.  
The fight itself is a blur, she cannot recall later when her companions found them and stepped in, she cannot remember if the nasty gashes and the broken rips are his doing or from the fights before. All she remembers is Tamlen falling down to the ground at last, his life seeping away from him through a deep wound on his chest. She goes down with him, holding him, cradling him in her arms now that he is too weak to fight against it. Is it her imagination or is he leaning into her touch at last? His final breath sounds like her name and she presses her forehead against his, words spilling from her mouth she should have said to him when there still was a future to be had. They are elvish, so nobody else understands but she has forgotten about her companions already. But even if she looks like she has gone mad nobody interferes or pulls her away.

Rain starts falling shortly before dawn as she finally stands up, her legs protesting after all the hours spent in a cramped position. It is summer now, but that doesn’t mean much in Ferelden. Trembling uncontrollably she staggers into camp, searching for a shovel. There isn’t a lot of time but she will not let him rot like the other dead dark spawn. Without a word Alistair is by her side, even if his pitiful glances make her cringe. But he helps her without asking and, one after another, her other companions join their task. It is dawning when she plants the sapling on her lover’s grave, wrapping a strand of her hair around its fragile branches. There are no more tears and no more words she can spent. “Thank you” is all she manages to say as she tries to stand up again and her legs simply give out. Someone catches her and the smell of leather and spices is the last thing she remembers before sinking into the comforting darkness of unconsciousness.


End file.
